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albatmobile · 1 year

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romance and return policies pt. 3

part three of this ask!

[1] [2] [3] next: [4] [5] [6] || ao3

𓅪 Rated: M | TW: attempted SA | 2.6k includes: alternate universe no powers, modern au, eventual polyamory, eventual relationships, eventual smut, gamestop au

𓅪 established roy harper x koriand'r eventual: jason todd x reader, Roy Harper x reader, koriand'r x reader endgame: Jason Todd x reader x Roy Harper x koriand'r

“Table two.” Your coworker calls your name from the counter and you sigh.

You’ve been on break for barely three minutes, have just fucking finished peeing after holding it during the entirety of the evil Sunday lunch/dinner, dunch, whatever, rush. God forbid you get to read a page or two of your latest fixation- but no.

Sunday’s a cruel mistress.

Nay, Pam’s Diner is the real cruelty with all the last-minute doubles forced on you, but at least it's money.

Your bloated feet quickly remember the pained pressure you’d forgotten in your brief moment of sitting within seconds of standing again. Your usual strong gate is reduced to a warbled rhythm as your feet protest each contact with the tile below.

You sigh again when you see your table, though in relief. Two redheads and a skunk-stripe.

“Hey!” Your pain is forgotten as you sidle up to where Jay, Roy and Kori are seated in the corner booth in your section. “Guess it’s only fair you guys get to come harass me at work now too, huh?”

Roy chuckles, “Oh, yeah. Big time.”

Kori smacks him on the shoulder, not delicately, mind you, “We will be doing nothing of the harassment with our wonderful friend.”

Roy holds his hands up in surrender and offers you a sheepish apology. “She should know by now that I’m just kidding around!” Roy looks to you for silent approval, something you roll your eyes but give, nonetheless. “See! She’s a total babe about it.”

“Total babe,” You roll your eyes again, mocking him. “Kori,” She looks up at you, “you feeling any better?”

Kori stutters out a yes before turning to Roy, who offers her no help with the shit-eating grin that now adorns his face.

“She so digs you, Star,” Roy nudges Kori, who blushes. You watch as she tucks her hair behind her tanned, pierced ears and inadvertently do the same. “Girls get away with so much more shit with each other than guys can," He taps the table as if deep in thought. "Now that I think of it, Jay wouldn’t even let me watch porn with him when we were first BFFs. Can you believe that?” He jabs an elbow into Jay's side, "Didn't take long to change that though, eh?"

Everyone at the table stares at him, though Jay’s and yours come across as more deadpan than Kori’s shocked one.

“Roy,” You sigh his name, hitting your pad with the butt of your pen. “Just fucking order before I start lengthening my visits to piss you off.”

“Is that not what you already do?” It’s surprisingly from Kori and you have no choice but to throw your head back and laugh. You watch her clap her hands together with your eyes still crinkled with laughter at how adorable Kori is. “She is a total babe, Roy!”

You blush, realizing she must’ve meant about how you handled their humor… obviously.

From behind, you hear the manager, Pam, clear her throat. You turn around to see her pointedly looking at her watch, then at you. God forbid someone make some fucking tips in this shithole.

“Roy,” You glance up from your empty pad of paper to meet his verdant gaze. “Food. Pick. Now,” You lean down to point your pen down on his menu, fixing him with a semi-stern glance.

“Big stack,” He leans in, closing the distance between the two of you as he hands you his menu. You inadvertently release a gasp at the close contact as he proudly recites his order from memory, the fucking cunt. “Chocolate chip and peanut butter cakes, please, alternated if ya care, darlin’,” He winks. “Side of sausage would be incredible.”

You mutter under your breath something about him still being incorrigible before retreating to focus on the raven-haired man beside him. “And what can I get for you, Jay?”

He’s been, unsurprisingly, quiet and you catch him off guard. His cheeks flush and his menu flips up as a makeshift barrier to cover it.

Roy snickers, “Jay, you gettin’ that pancake too?” Roy’s fiery eyebrows wiggle up and down until there’s a loud thump, followed by Roy groaning. “Well, excuse me for living, bro,” Another thump followed by another groan from Roy.

The bells above the diner door jingle and your co-workers voice out ‘hello’s’ in varied levels of enthusiasm.

Kori’s voice draws your attention back to the table, “Two of the breakfast specials for me. One with bacon and waffles, the other with sausage and chocolate chip pancakes, please!” She flashes you her perfect teeth as she hands you back the menu with her Hello Kitty acrylics, bending the laminate page in the process.

“‘Atta girl,” Roy pats her on the back. “Actually, I’ll do the same.”

You fiddle with their menus before steadying them over top of each other under your arm before turning back to Jay. “French toast, please.”

“Bacon or sausage, love?” You blush as soon as your usual work pet name for customers accidentally slips through. You clear your throat to cover over the sounds of Roy’s barely concealed snickering.

In your defense, you ask this question to tables around ten times a shift, if not more.

It’s out of habit.

Purely habit, you convince yourself.

The rest of their visit goes without further complications as the ever-present weekend rush streaming incessantly through the doors keeps you busy for the most part. Soon enough, you’re boxing up what remains of Jay’s and Roy’s plates and sending them out the door with extra goodies.

It’s not the last time they all visit, but mainly Roy and Jay or, even more surprisingly, Jay on his own trickle in throughout the following weeks.

When it’s just Jay and Roy, you know they’ll leave you with stitches in your sides from their constant old-married-couple-esque banter.

However, it’s the times Jay comes in on his own and plops down at the counter with a book that you appreciate the most. His presence demands attention and damn, does he have all of yours.

“Whatcha reading this week?” You stop yourself from using your usual ‘handsome’ pet name, but just barely. It’s a diner, for fucks sake. People expect a certain hospitality. Doll, darlin’, handsome, cutie, love and gorgeous have all now been permanently ingrained into your lingo here. He tilts the book better towards you from your position behind him. You set the coffee pot down on the counter and lean in, brushing against his shoulder in the process, “A Separate Peace?”

He hums in approval, watching as your eyes skim over the fifth page of the book. There’s a great pause as you assume he finishes reading before he looks up at you, silently asking for your permission to turn the page. You let out an amused huff and nod, settling close once again as you begin to scan through the next page.

It's only a matter of time before Pam pops up out of nowhere and the last thing you needed was another write-up, so, after another page, you set about work once again, albeit distracted.

After the raven-haired man’s fourth solo visit, you realize you both read at the same pace. You only notice because he stays on the page a bit too long, even after both of your eyes have stopped pouring over the words.

This time, as soon as you finish, you catch his eyes. You offer a tiny smile when you see him come to the end of the text and waste no time in flipping the page.

From then on out, you’re in charge of page flipping, so long as other tables don’t call your attention away for too long. You never mind when he goes ahead and continues reading, considering most of them were classics you’ve already read cover to cover.

“I can always flip back to page 143,” He offers easily as your tired weight sinks against him after a particularly drawn-out rush.

You just refill his coffee and allow him to turn the pages until he finds a rhythm that works for both of you. You blush, thinking about all the other rhythms you could find with him. However, the pain in your feet draws the majority of your attention, while the plot on the pages of his book captures the rest.

“I need to get a library card to keep up with you,” You glance around for Pam, grateful when her red hair is nowhere in sight. “I used to go to the library more than GameStop, if you’d believe it.”

“I do,” He smirks without taking his eyes off the page. “There’s a nice library outside next to the community garden near the reservations a bit of ways east.”

“Sounds nice,” You say, furrowing your brows as you read, then reread a paragraph.

Is he asking you on a date?

You must’ve been quiet for a while because his deep voice startles you from your wandering thoughts. “You talk a lot in the store, but you seem to be pretty quiet right now.”

You blush at his observation, “Shut up, Jay.”

He snorts humorlessly, “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Is that not your name?”

“No,” He glances at you from out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh,” What do you say to that? Silence proceeds and you let yourself become wrapped up in it before anxiously offering an explanation. “It’s just, you never wear a name tag and the only things Roy ever calls you is Jay or Jaybird, so,” You trail off, trying hard not to desperately search his eyes for approval.

“It’s Jason,” He says.

You nod, “Okay, Jason.”

“I don’t care if you keep calling me Jay, though. It’s kind of cute,” He hands you his phone before your blush can worsen if that’s even possible and you enter your number. He wastes no time in phoning you so you can have his number, too. “Come in tomorrow. I get off at noon; I’ll take you.”

Again, date????

“Okay, Jay,” You say, catching the nickname too late and duck your head sheepishly.

You hear the kitchen door hinges squeak and quickly busy yourself with the cloth in your hand. You innocently wipe as Pam glares you down like she knows you've been slacking off.

“You’re staying for inventory today, right?” Pam’s smile is pure rancid shit to you.

Considering this is the third time this month she’s assigned you this laborious task, you feel like losing your shit. None of the other workers ever seemed to have inventory duty, but here you are, staying into the wee hours of the night, driving yourself crazy with numbers until it all looks like a foreign language AGAIN.

“Sure thing, Pam,” You respond with the same fake smile. “I’ll be here.”

Her eyes flick from Jason to you with amusement before exiting the restaurant.

Jason sips the last of his coffee and closes his book, “Glad to know there are shittier managers out there than me.”

“I wouldn’t mind having you as a boss,” You admit, picking up his empty cup and dumping it in the bus tray behind the counter.

He takes in your expression, searching for sarcasm. When he finds none, he laughs and your heart stops, “Please, you’d just slack off like all my other employees.”

You shoot him a look, “Oh, so that’s what you’ve deduced from the time you’ve spent watching me? Don't act like you don't see me run my ass off here shift after shift.”

“Yeah, I’d never want your job,” He blinks with one eye. Normally, you’d just think he’s winking, but it just seems like a twitch. Is he nervous or something? He clears his throat, ruffling his hair in the process, “Want me to wait for you?”

“Just have to get change for this one table, then I can close down for the night,” You wave him off, walking him to the door. “Trust me, you already know inventory sucks ass.”

“True, just be careful,” He glances over his shoulder at you in lieu of a goodbye.

You watch him board a red Benelli and book it out of the empty parking lot with a load roar that shakes you to your bones all the way from inside.

You regret not taking his offer 15 minutes later when you look up at the sound of the door’s bell.

Your welcome instantly dies on your tongue when you see the creep from GameStop hobble drunkenly over to the counter. There’s a wicked glint in his eyes, one that’s entirely hard to miss

You text Jason and hesitate a few beats before also texting Roy, lamenting the fact you didn’t have Kori’s number. You shoot off quick messages asking if either can stop by the diner ASAP. You slip your phone inconspicuously back into your apron, completely undetected by the dickwad at the counter, before continuing on with your closing duties.

A minute later and the silence is broken.

His rough voice has your head shooting toward him, but it's too slurred to make out. He continues rambling to himself as you attempt to distance yourself from him, but once he stands up, you still feel too close.

"I said," He grips the counter for balance, "you gotta guard dog here, too?"

"I'm allergic to dogs," It's a lie, but he doesn't need to know that.

You try to keep it light and flit about your closing duties until the man grabs you around the waist. Before you can stop it, he tugs you against him, closing the entirety of distance you've created between the two of you.

You struggle against his hold, elbowing behind you until you hear a sickening crunch when you make contact with his nose.

“What? You fuckin’ both of ‘em, you fuckin’ whore?” His words are slurred and, from up close, you’re affronted with the smell of whiskey. “You like cock so much, but you don’t want mine?" He smacks you across the face and you fall to the floor with a shocked cry. "You, ungrateful BITCH!”

Your phone clatters against the tile just out of reach as the man rushes forward and attempts to pin you against the cold floor below. It’s been mere seconds, but, fuck, does it feel like forever as his beady eyes take in your body like a lion sidling up to its cornered prey.

Your heartbeat rapidly pounds in your ears as the seconds tick on.

You try your best to kick and roll, but his satisfied, drunken laughter soon fills the emptiness of the diner. You feel all hope leave you.

That is, until the door's kicked in.

The man’s weight is off of you in an instant. Soon, the cold quiet of the dim diner is replaced with the pained screams as two shadows beat down on the man relentlessly.

A sweet voice startles you from behind- Kori, you realize once you get past the haze of what just happened.

“Are you hurt?” Her gentle hands cup your arms as she helps you stand. She says your name again and you meet her eyes, albeit unfocused. “Did he hurt you?”

Physically? Yes. Mentally? Yes.

“No.”

She eyes you with doubt but continues to calmly guide you out of the diner. “We won’t allow him on our premises anymore, I promise,” She coos your name gently as her long, thin fingers stroke through your hair. “I promise,” She repeats over and over again and your heartbeat finally steadies.

Tears drip silently down your cheeks until flashes of red and blue stain them.

The cops come and try their best to dissuade you from filing a report, warning that it can take hours and might not even get anywhere. However, with the support of your newfound friends, you persevere and mentally prepare yourself for the battle ahead.

Your restraining order is filed and issued within the week.

A/N: i dont really get into the aftermath much in this fic but i did just want to say: sometimes when assault happens it’s not as big or obvious in the moment like this but it doesn’t make your feelings any less valid. when you feel in your gut that something’s wrong, please believe yourself and follow through with necessary precautions/steps and allow yourself to grieve- love y’all

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#reader x jason todd x roy harper #jason todd x reader #reader x roy harper #reader x koriand'r #reader x jason todd x roy harper x koriand'r #albatmobile prompts #my fic: romance and return policies

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